I hate you
by LittleAMinion
Summary: My tag to Mystery Spot. 3x11... It's one of those Tuesdays (in which Sam nearly makes it to midnight) and the first Thursday with Dean... Noslash and brotherly bonding.


**Hey guys. I was watching Mystery Spot and this came to my mind. I hope you like it. :) NO Slash!**

… … …

**I HATE YOU. **

**Tuesday**

Sam looked at the alarm clock and his chest tightened a little. He sighed and closed his eyes for a second.

"Your turn Sammy." Dean prodded gently. They were playing UNO. "Five minutes. We've got this", the older man added nonchalant.

"Yeah. " Sam nodded, his eyes fixed on the time now. He's never come that far. 23.55. He made it to 23.54 once. The forty-sixth Tuesday had been the best so far. But he had been to sure then. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice. This time he wouldn't allow Dean to go to the bathroom. He had already told him not to move.

In the beginning Dean had been annoyed but this annoyance had quickly turned to worry and then to something that Sam wasn't quite familiar with. The younger brother guessed that it was some kind of compassion. Dean was calm and kind. He had promised Sam that this would be the last Tuesday. Tuesday seventy-four. Dean had given him his word that he would just stay in the bed, not touching anything apart from anything that Sam would hand to him.

"Okay I am winning anyway." Dean set aside the cards in his hands and also took the cards from Sam.

"You're cheating", Sam mumbled, his heart skipping a beat when the clock turned again. "Four minutes", he whispered.

"Still called winning." Dean had a smile in his voice. He leaned back, one hand briefly on Sam's shoulder. "It's gonna be fine."

Sam nodded, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. Finally. That was it. That was the last Tuesday. He wouldn't be able to handle another one. He had seen his brother dying so many times now. He had seen so much gore and he had faced so much pain himself that he just couldn't cope anymore. The worst part though wasn't seeing his brother die over and over again. It was bad. I still hurt, but it wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that Dean never remembered.

Sam hated explaining the situation to his brother. He hated how lightly Dean joked about it. He hated how disbelieving he was at first. He hated seeing his brother greeting him with a smile in the morning. He hated every second of the morning.

"Sammy." Dean's voice was warm and gentle. He needed THAT Dean. He needed Dean to be aware of everything. "Hey." A hand slapped his upper arm. "Come on. Don't freak out now."

"I'm not." Sam released a breath he wasn't aware of holding. "I don't want you to forget again."

"I am not that stupid, Sammy." Dean joked. "It's only four… three minutes."

"Not funny, Dean." This time Sam allowed himself to give a small smile. They've made it.

"We're gonna have a hell of a chick-flick moment in about two and a half minutes?" Dean still smiled.

"Yes." Sam grinned now. "And you're not getting out of it."

"I am aware." Dean didn't seem to mind.

The clock turned again. .58. Two minutes. Sam got up. He couldn't sit anymore. He had his hands in tight fists. "Get the beer." Dean's eyes followed him. "I wanna drink after that."

Sam nodded. "In two minutes." He was standing in front of the alarm clock now. He heard Dean sighing, before he felt his big brother's hand on his lower arm. Gently. He felt Deans thumb move against the fabric of his hoodie.

23.59. Sam's pulse was way too quick. One minute. One fucking minute and he was out of this hell.

"Okay sit down you big girl you are shaking." Dean tucked at his arm and made him sit down beside him. "I am not going anywhere. I promise! We've made-"

Dean was interrupted by a scream outside the window. A shot fell. The window burst.

…

'_HEAT OF THE MOMENT….'_

Sam's breath quickened immediately. He sat up with a start.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean shouted, tying his shoelaces. He grinned at him.

For a moment Sam felt his own lip tighten, tears stinging in his eyes.

"Dude. Ai-"

"I hate you." Sam couldn't stop the words from forming. He closed his eyes for a second and rubbed at his eyes.

"What?" Dean asked after what felt like an eternity. They never crossed that line. Sam would say it as a joke when Dean pranked him, but he would never say it in a serious manner like he just had.

Sam just shook his head , before he got up. A hand gripped his arm and jerked him back. He spun around and before he realized what he was doing he had punched Dean.

Immediately his brother fell down on the bed, holding his jawline. His eyes were wide. "What the fuck, dude?" Dean looked up at Sam.

"Just go fuck yourself!" Sam felt tears on his cheeks. Dean had promised. He had promised that it was over. He couldn't help but feeling angry at this version of Dean. This smiling-everything-is-alright-and-you-sound-crazy version. He hated him. He hated everything about him. "I hate you", he repeated.

Dean's façade broke for a second. He looked hurt. "Alright", his voice was barley over a whisper when he got up. "See you tonight." With that he was gone and left Sam alone in the dreaded motel room.

Sam escaped a sob.

For the first time he hoped that he would not make it till evening.

…

**Thursday**

Sam had told Dean everything. Not everything- he hadn't talked about the last six months. His last six months. He couldn't. They were actually driving out of town. Dean had let Sam talk for the past 50 miles. Every now and then he had commented on something.

"You know we will eventually talk about what you're hiding now." Dean stated calmly. "You can't hide whatever is bothering you forever."

No. But with Dean's deal coming due. He might have a good chance to be able to hide it for long enough. "I know", Sam answered. They would get Dean out of the deal. They would. Talking about the trauma was a small price he was willing to pay.

"You know that I don't hate you?", Sam heard himself ask. Wait! What? No! Don't ask that? He doesn't remember and that is…

"Okay… random." _Exactly. _

"Never mind." Sam muttered.

"What is that about Sam?" Dean looked in the rear mirror and pulled towards the shoulder of the road.

"NO!" Sam shouted. "Please keep driving." 50 miles weren't enough.

Dean shot him a quick look, but he kept going. "Sammy. Talk to me."

"I told you one morning that I hated you." Sam cleared his throat. "We made it till 23.59 and then you got shot through the window and you forgot everything. Again. I was just so…"

"…frustrated?" _Exactly._ Sam nodded, knowing that his brother was watching him out of the corner of his eye. "I get that and I know that you don't hate me." Dean's voice was reassuring and honest. "Sorry that you had to live through that."

Sam breathed out. "I missed you."


End file.
